Harry Potter and the Way of the Warrior
by Struglingwriter
Summary: REVAMPING THE STORY. SAME PLOTish JUST BETTER WRITING. PROLOGUE AND CHAPTER ONE FIXED TITLE CHANGE FROM UNFORSEEN POWERS
1. Prologue

Prologue

_The Way of a Warrior is based on humanity, love, and sincerity; the heart of martial valor is true bravery, wisdom, love, and friendship. One's miniscule existence is pointless when viewed against the whole. _

Reverberating through the combine of conscious thought, this mantra filled Harry's mind.

Then why does it come down to me? Why am I the only one who can kill Voldemort 

_Does it matter? Wondering why isn't going to change anything_. Countered Harry's conscious.

_Then what can I do? Kill Voldemort? Too bad I wouldn't stand a chance. He's got years of experience over me._

_Would you rather have him harm everyone you know, everyone you care about?_

_Of course not!_

Then prepare… AN 

**Thus begins my tale. Tell me what you think of it so far, granted it's just the prologue. I don't know if I'll keep this kind of writing style, as I don't think it remotely resembles what is represented in the Harry Potter series.**

Quote by Morihei Ueshiba


	2. Chapter One

Harry Potter sat alone in his room at Privet Drive as the happy memories of his godfather, Sirius Black, were drowned by the guilt he felt. In just the last couple of weeks he had grown quite a bit. His Aunt Petunia had to constantly buy him new clothes, although this time she did not complain. Apparently when Mad Eye Moody threatened the Dursley's two weeks ago they took it to heart. Uncle Vernon had not said a word to Harry since break began. The Dursley's were terrified of mistreating Harry, because his magical 'bodyguards' would pay them a visit, and this time,maybe do more than blast apart the fireplace.

Harry couldn't care less, and he found their anxiety amusing. A little fear is something the Dursley's could live with. After all, Harry had to live with it since the moment he was left on their accursed doorstep. In Harry's eyes, the Dursley's suffering was nothing compared to his. Harry, who has visions of the Dark Lord Voldemort; Harry, who has to kill Voldemort or be killed; Harry, who is supposed to have powers the Dark Lord knows not; Harry, who witnessed his Godfather, Sirius Black, die a month ago at the Ministry of Magic, had to go through much more pain then the Dursley's could ever imagine.

The thought of Sirius falling through the veil, surprise etched on his once handsome face, while all Harry could do is watch in horror tormented his dreams. 'It's my fault he died, if only I wouldn't have been so stupid. If I would have only listened to Hermione, because of my 'saving people thing' Sirius is dead!'

"BOY GET DOWN HERE!" roared his uncle Vernon.

Harry had been so absorbed in his own thoughts, he had not heard his uncle yelling for him to come down until the second time around.

"Coming" was all Harry said as he proceeded down the steps one by one, as he tried to regain his composure before facing his uncle. Seeing him sad would act as another of the Dursley's psychological weapons they could assault him with.

Harry arrived in the living room, his emotions controlled to a marginal degree. The thought of one Sirius Black was pushed far from his mind; he would have time to deal with that later.

The next few weeks were uneventful. Harry got a couple of letters from Ron and Hermione, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, all of them concerned for him and telling him it was not his fault. At these, Harry snorted. 'I am just a burden to them. They're in danger for knowing me, I am nothing but selfish.'

He needed to get out of this house and find a quiet place were he could think. Luckily for Harry, the nights were almost as warm as the days. Soon, He was swinging on the newly repaired swings, staring up at the full moon as it bathed him in light, finding solace in the isolation.

The teardrops of the night sky matched that of the emerald eye of Harry Potter. The pure beauty of the moon made him think of Remus, and how hard it must be for him. Of course, like all other acts of beauty, it was ruined by an outside source.

"Well if it isn't Harry, all alone in a dark park."

"Well, if it isn't Big D, from the small earthquake I could have sworn Shamoo grew legs. Stuff it and leave, Dudley."Dudley was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"What are you going to do, run and tell your parents? Oh wait, you can't. Ha! The only people that ever loved you, and their dead."

"Shut up." Harry's tried to reign in his anger. He was not going to let Dudley talk about his parents, but he could not do magic and risk expulsion. Apparently, Dudley was not very smart, and he continued as if Harry had not even spoken.

"Not like it matters though, they were useless freaks anyways. Burdens on society, a lot like you."

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Harry reached for his wand, anger surging through every vein in his body, but before his fingertips could even scratch it's polished surface, his scar exploded and he fell to the ground writhing pain. The blood from his lightening scar running down his face, and the symphony of screams accented to the pain he was feeling till it was too much to bear, and he blacked out.

The torrent of images rushed forth from the secluded regions of his mind, beating back any attempt at stopping them. Harry's most painful memories plagued his mind, such as: of Quirrel dying at his hands, seeing a supposed lifeless Ginny on the Chamber's floor, Sirius seconds away from getting his soul vacuumed from his body, Cedric's lifeless body, and Sirius falling through the veil. The guilt would seemingly double after every image, and they left Harry with a deep feeling of self-loathing. He knew deep down that no one blamed him, but his mind would not allow him to think so. It told him that he was useless, a burden to everyone, that he was nothing but a big target on the backs of his friends, and their families.

Finally, the images sojourned, and as he slipped away from his unconscious state, he was greeted with the sight of the peeling white paint on his bed room ceiling.

'What the hell am I doing in my bed. Wasn't I at the park?'

But his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of quiet sobbing at the end of his bed.

"Tonks? What are you doing here, is everything alright?"

"HARRY! I was so worried! You haven't had a pulse for the past minute, what happened?"

'Voldemort must be extremely angry to produce that much power.'

"Tonks, I'm sorry, but this is just something that I'm not ready to speak about. I hope you can understand…"

"Of course I can Harry."

"Thanks Tonks, I think I'm going to get some sleep now."

"Okay, if you're sure you're going to be ok." She paused and looked at him, only to see his affirmative nod. "Well then, I gotta go, my duty ends in about a minute and there gonna get suspicious if I walk out of your house."

"Thanks Tonks, remember don't tell anyone."

"Don't worry Harry. You can count on me."

Harry mumbled "Thanks," his head already in his pillow.

Early next morning Harry sat in his rickety chair looking out his window, deep in thought. He reflected on the events of last night. 'If Voldemort can kill me with just his emotions, I'll never stand a chance. I'm nothing but a burden. Snape was right.'

Harry made decision, he was going to leave.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Previously on Harry Potter and the Way of the Warrior…

**_Harry made a decision, he was going to leave_**…

The only problem, he had nowhere to go. The last ten minutes found Harry pacing his room in an attempt to shake loose an idea.

_Grimwauld Place?_

Too many people, I need someplace quiet.

_The Burrow?_

_Funny, I thought the point is to get AWAY from people._

While talking to yourself is normal, answering is a whole different story. Harry was beginning to think he was loosing it.

_How about Hogwarts?… _

…He lost it.

_Oh yeah! That could work. I could just walk through the doors right up to the common room. Maybe take a pit stop at the kitchens to check in on Dobby, or the dungeons to say "Hi" to Snape; or possibly ask Myrtle out on date. Might as well pet the basilisk while I'm there…_

Harry could have slapped himself.

_The chamber!_

It was almost perfect. Although, it brings up the question of how he was going to get to it. The entrance, after all, was located within Hogwarts, in a deserted girls bathroom. Well, that and the immense basilisk corpse decaying in the middle of the chamber, but he decided to deal with that problem when he came to it. However, he doubted that he could leave the Dursley's house and venture into Hogwarts without attracting the attention of the Headmaster, or his Order.

_How would I even get there? _Harry thought

_I can't apparate yet, not like that would help, and I don't have any spare portkey's lying around. _ Harry was stuck. He was starting to think he had to find another place to stay. Getting into the chamber was just too hard.

What about the night bus, could that work? Can it even go to Hogwarts? Well, only one way to find out. First though, I have to stop off at Diagon Alley.

Harry decided to map out what he needed to do. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, which is much more efficient than a quill, he made a list.

Leave the Dursley's

Get some new clothes and equipment for training (Maybe something to make the chamber more livable)

Find a place to live if the chamber is unavailable

Find out if I can do magic in the chamber without being caught, or find a way to lift the underage restriction

Prepare for the inevitable fight with Voldemort

Harry now had a rough idea as to what he had to do. Now, the only problem was deciding when to leave, and getting away from the Order members surrounding his house.

Harry snorted. He made it sound so easy. _I doubt they'll let me walk right past them, summon the Night Bus, and leave. Although, maybe if I left on Dung's rotation? That could work, but how will I know when it's him? All those damn Order members wear invisibility cloaks. _Harry scowled, this was turning out to be harder than he thought.

_Although I could probably smell Dung, I don't want to depend on that. _This brought a small smile to Harry's face.

Maybe if I used my own invisibility cloak…No, I bet Dumbledore would have thought of that.

Harry was starting to get frustrated, so he decided to go through some of his old school books, hoping that maybe the answer would come to him if he stopped thinking about it for a while. Deciding to start with the basics, Harry pulled out The Standard Book of Spells: Grade One.

Harry spent the remainder of the day going through the rest of his first year books, and by the end of it had a major headache from trying to remember the countless spells and potion ingredients.

_How does Hermione do it? _Harry wondered, while wishing for some way to organize the torrent of thoughts running through his mind.

Unbidden, the thought of _clear your mind_ popped up inside Harry, and he snorted at the irony.

_Bullshit, I doubt that Dumbledore, with all of his thoughts, simply clears his mind. Screw Snape and his half-ass teaching. If he would have taught me correctly, Sirius might still be alive. _Harry felt tears begin to form, as waves of sorrow and guilt crashed into him, and closed his eyes, not allowing the tears to shed.

This is all their fault, him and Dumbledore. Dumbledore should have told me about the prophecy, he should have never appointed Snape to teach me Occulmency.

Dumbledore did what he thought was right; it is not his fault that you and Snape couldn't get past a pitiful grudge. The reasonable part of Harry's mind, or his conscious, retorted.

Snape had the grudge! Ever since day one he has hated me, because of his hatred for my FATHER! Not even with me! I did nothing!

No, It was not their fault! You knew from experience that Snape wouldn't teach you well, and could have looked for a book, or tried to figure it out yourself. There is no one else to blame. You've got to quit with this Kindergarten bullshit and take responsibility for your actions, regardless of how Snape, or any one else, treats you.

… Harry fell silent, knowing that his conscious was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Blaming Snape took some of his own guilt away, and loosing him as a scapegoat left Harry in mix between being entrapped by guilt, and consumed by anger. He sat down in his old chair, which was slightly broken from when Dudley tried to sit on it, and stared out the window. Looking over the back fence towards the neighbors house, Harry wondered what it would be like to be them, living without fear of death. Not having to be a prisoner in his own home, watched over by Order members…

For a second time that day, Harry could have slapped himself.

I doubt they watch the other houses, and I could go guard change. Guard change is what Harry had taken to calling the tiny 'pops' or 'cracks' of apparition the Order members made when changing shifts.

I'll go tomorrow morning.

Harry heaved a sigh and smiled. If all went as planned, this would be his last night at Privet Drive.

Shadows receded off plastered walls, driven away by the rays of sun leaking through the window. Eager to raise the inhabitants of the small bedroom, they found blazing green emeralds full of anticipation. At 8:30 in the morning, Harry sat, waiting for the day's events.

With a carpe diem attitude, he had already packed his invisibility cloak and some schoolbooks into one of Dudley's old backpacks. He had thought about bringing clothes, but had decided against it, based on the fact that he was going to buy some in Diagon Alley that actually fit. Knowing there was usually a guard change around 11:00, Harry opted to eat a quick breakfast.


End file.
